Digsnow(Pupart)

When you see Nona in this pose, that means she has something new to talk about. It might not help you escape the Rhombus, but this could be a great chance to learn more about her past, the Aquato family history, and just who among her grandchildren is her absolute favorite.

FAMILY

Lazarus Aquato

Nona: A very bold and wonderful circus ringmaster, but, well, I know some might call it “romantic” and Lazarus was quite principled otherwise such as when he protested against the Gzar despite the risks to his circus’ reputation - but don’t you think it was a bit iffy that he was willing to drop a grudge spanning centuries between two feuding families just because a daughter of the Galochios had a pretty face? Frazie: …no? Raz: If he hadn’t, then dad would’ve never been born. WE would’ve never been born. Nona: Oh, I’m sure you all would’ve popped up later down the lineage give or take a few years.

Augustus

Nona: My boy has such a beautiful smile. It’s a blessing that I’ve been able to see it almost every day.

Donatella

Nona: (tersely) Children, one of my greatest wishes is that when you and your siblings find spouses, they are loving, loyal, and dependable partners. And that all five of them bring your mother Donatella as much comfort, joy, and pleasantness as that woman has given me for nearly 20 years. To my dying breath, that will be in my prayers.

Dion

Nona: Like a carnival prince from a fairy tale. If I hadn’t been midwife to his birth-. Raz: Ew. Nona: Shush! Anyway, I would’ve sworn he had walked out of a storybook to be part of our lives. And he so loves the circus. So if either of you two or any of the others must leave our little troupe, please be sure to write or call him regularly. Or send him one of those “e-mills” that are all the rage nowadays.

Frazie

Nona:  Of course your hydrokinesis scares me! I’d be nuts if it didn’t. But it makes me more sad than anything. My sister and I had oh so much fun with it when she was alive. So I know that wonderful things can be done with this power. And that it’s in extremely good hands.

Raz

Nona: What? You fishing for compliments while your grandma is more put together, Razputin? Who helped you hide your comic books, eh? And don’t think I don’t know that those goggles are actually Psychonauts merch you ordered from a magazine and not pilot gear like you told your parents. How about a few dozen kissies so you don’t worry so much about what I think of you?

Mirtala

Nona: Yes, Frazie. Your fears were real. Tala is my favorite granddaughter. No, it’s not due to your teenage angst, your gangly growthspurt, or your increasingly husky voice; we all go through that. Mostly because she responds so cutely to my tickles. Like your father! Be more ticklish for your Nona, Frazie. That is one of the skeleton keys to my wrinkled, old heart. And maybe even my will!

Queepie

Nona: The world’s strongest five year old boy, and its most adorable little dancer. Ahhhhh, he shouldn’t be so shy about that. He isn’t bashful about his strength, after all. I guess your mother’s gorilla genes were good for something. Raz: Whuh? Nona: I guess your mother’s ballerina genes were good for something.

The Galochios

Nona: Alright, family secret. Though we insisted that we were fortune tellers, very few of the Galochios could actually see the future. Way back in the past, it was just assumed that all psychics could do that. In actuality, it was a very rare skill. By the time our clan realized that, my ancestors were too proud and jealous to throw away such a prestigious part of their identity. Those that weren’t precognitive got by with faking it with mind-reading, sleight of hand, and occasionally plants in the audience. We never stopped hoping we’d get real seers. In fact, our parents were more disappointed in the sister who was hydrokinetic instead of precognitive than the sister who wasn’t psychic at all. Frazie: Poor Aunty Lu. Nona: Bah, not that I turned out much better. I travel with “The Flying Aquatos” for pity’s sake, and I know none of us clowns can actually fly. Raz: Oh, but Frazie can levitate, I think. Nona & Frazie: That’s not the same, Raz.

Grulovia

Nona: Augustus tried to arrange some “return tours” to Grulovia. However, whenever we got close to our home country, I couldn’t stop myself from weeping until we turned the other way. I’m certain it’s recovered some from all the flooding and the freezing and the psychic warfare. And yet, I may never be strong enough to go back. It was such a lovely place. Worth fighting for once upon a time.

STORY

Psilirium Cures (Short)

Raz: Know any cures for Psilirum poisoning? Something that could help Frazie and everyone else who isn’t me or dad? Nona: Get as far away from it as possible. Frazie: Ehhhhh. Nona: I know. I know. That is not happening anytime soon. But for the alternative, I can give you the long version involving your ancestor Fyodikey or the short version. Which would you prefer? Frazie: Mmmm, short, please. Nona: Playing someone’s favorite music can help lift the spell. This used to be a very useless cure back in the very old days since if you were near Psilirium, chances are that everyone around you was too busy either hallucinating or zipping around the place to carry a tune. But the record players and radios have made it much easier. Raz: So if we sang some of Frazie’s favorite songs, she might not need the helmet anymore. Frazie: That…you don’t really need to do that, Pooter. Nona: It’s worth a shot. Our voices might sound like banshees, but perhaps mentally, we are sirens! Frazie: Your thoughts sound exactly the same when they come out of your mouths. Raz: The last hurrah? Nuh-uh, I’d do it again! The Rascal Queen behind the bars or the one in front of them? Nona: The last hurrah? Nuh-uh, I'd do it again! Raz & Nona: The Rascal Queen behind the bars or the one in front of them?! Frazie: Stop it! Stop it! Stop! Raz: Did it work? Nona: Are you feeling better? Frazie: I feel WORSE! Nona: Oh. I am sorry, Frazie. Raz: Mmmm, I’m not going to lie. That was sort of a win-win situation for me. Frazie: ARGH! Nona: Frazie, do not strangle your brother. It is rude and there are more ethical ways of conserving oxygen underwater.

Psilirium Cures (Long)

Raz: Know any cures for Psilirum poisoning. Something that could help Frazie and everyone else who isn’t me or dad? Nona: Get as far away from it as possible. Frazie: Ehhhhh. Nona: I know. I know. That is not happening anytime soon. But for the alternative, I can give you the long version involving your ancestor Fyodikey or the short version. Which would you prefer? Raz: Long version, please. Nona: Well, after Fyodikey told his crewmates about all the shipwrecks and corpses and the blazing demonic stone he saw that were right beneath them, they decided that they were pretty much doomed to share the dour fate of those who had come before. However, they also decided that since they were trapped with no hope of escape, then they might as well go out with style. Fyodikey and his companions raided the cargo hold of their ship and plundered its riches so they might indulge in them before the Rhombus claimed their lives. Frazie: Like what? Nona: So many sorts. They draped themselves in fine silks, spiced their rations with exotic herbs, used rare gemstones as common currency for card games, and drank deeply from casks of vintage wine. And both among yet sitting apart from this revelry was Fyodikey and the handful of surviving musicians of the crew. They played songs from their various homelands all throughout the day and night between bouts of feasting and lopsided competitions of strength. The orchestra was much appreciated with their audience chanting along and clapping their hands to the beat. And after a week of partying, they saw it, just over the horizon. Land. They had escaped the Rhombus. Raz: Nice. A happy ending. Nona: More or less. The crew had gotten rid of their captain and had practically emptied out all the precious freight they had been tasked with transporting, but how they got out of that sticky situation is a story for another day. What you should take away from this tale is that Fyodikey stumbled upon a salve to the effects of Psilirium before he even knew what it was! Frazie: We’re a little too young to drink, Nona. Nona: No, not that. And anyway, getting sloshed was one of the first things they tried. The answer was music. Playing someone’s favorite music can help lift the spell. This used to be a very useless cure back in the very old days since if you were near Psilirium, chances are that everyone around you was too busy either hallucinating or zipping around the place to carry a tune. But the record players and radios have made it much easier. Raz: So if we sang some of Frazie’s favorite songs, she might not need the helmet anymore. Frazie: That…you don’t really need to do that, Pooter. Nona: It’s worth a shot. Our voices might sound like banshees, but perhaps mentally, we are secretly sirens! Frazie: Your thoughts sound exactly the same when they come out of your mouths. Raz: The last hurrah? Nuh-uh, I’d do it again! The Rascal Queen behind the bars or the one in front of them? Nona: The last hurrah? Nuh-uh, I'd do it again! Raz & Nona: The Rascal Queen behind the bars or the one in front of them?! Frazie: Stop it! Stop it! Stop! Raz: Did it work? Nona: Are you feeling better? Frazie: I feel WORSE! Nona: Oh. Sorry, Frazie. Raz: Mmmm, I’m not going to lie. That was sort of a win-win situation for me. Frazie: ARGH! Nona: Frazie, do not strangle your brother. It is rude and there are more ethical ways of conserving oxygen underwater.

Pursue Donatella?

Nona: She seems to be doing just fine against those fish people. Maybe she’ll bring home some sashimi for dinner, eh? Perhaps a lifetime’s supply!

The Rhombus of Ruin

Raz: How are you holding up, Nona? Since we’re in, like, one of your childhood ghost stories. Nona: That is so sweet of you to ask Razputin. But you needn’t worry. I’ve travelled all over this world. Arid deserts, muggy jungles, snowy mountains, smoggy cities, and picturesque warzones. It has been a very bumpy ride that really toughens you up. Frazie: So the Rhombus isn’t such a big deal? Nona: This is the worst place I’ve ever been in - in my entire life. If you two hadn’t been here with me, I would have expired from sheer terror the moment I woke up.

Augustus the Psychonaut

Frazie: Do you think there’s any way dad could convince Loboto that he isn’t a Psychonaut? Nona: I’m uncertain the alternative would improve my Gus-Gus’ situation. Raz: Why not? Nona: Because to that dentist, your father will either be a cerebral spy sent down here to arrest him or he is the papa of the young lady who annihilated his ambitions and forced him to hide out in this subaquatic slice of hades.

PSYCHICS & PSYCHIC POWERS

The Curse

Frazie: Nona, there’s something I’ve wanted to ask for a few months now…why did you lie about who killed Grandpa Lazlo and flooded Grulovia? Nona: It wasn’t a…complete…lie. I told you Mal…Maligula did that. Just not fully who she was. I genuinely can’t remember very well right now, but I probably thought it was a good idea at the time. Frazie: Dad says it was because you didn’t want us to hate Great Aunt Lucrecia. Nona: That sounds about right. Even now that I’m allowing myself to remember, I can’t see them as the same person. When we were girls, she would use her psychic powers so we could see and feel what it would be like wear the beautiful dresses we saw in magazines – the clothes and accessories our family was too poor to afford. The games of Puddle Trouble Hopskotch, sledding on the river in the summertime, sharing clairvoyance so we could watch theater shows without paying, and much more. There’s no way either of those little women in those wonderful memories could have possible visited such harm on so many. And yet…and yet… Raz: Grandma, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but if you knew who really did those terrible things, why did you try to encourage dad to be afraid of psychics in general? The way he used to talk about them to us – you’d think all of the “fortune tellers” had cursed us instead of-. Nona: But they did! They did curse our family. Lucrecia went to America. It was supposed to be a mecca for psychic research and lifestyles. Her husband – poor, sweet Gelsin – had recently passed in Grulovia’s most recent battle with invaders, and she needed to take her mind off of that. Those HIPPIES offered her a visa and a job and a chance to better learn how to use her powers. Ohhh, they pretended to be her friends, but when our country was attacked yet again, not a single one of them came back with her to defend it. And if we could have had a funeral for Lucrecia, I doubt they would’ve shown up for that too. And the curse! That hand! It’s my sister’s hand! I betrayed her, and it’s coming to punish me and take my boy away. I need to get him out of here, to get all of you out of here. Before it’s too late. Before she finds us! Before she-she-she-! Frazie: Nona! Nona, please stop. Raz: It’s-it’s okay. It’s just the three of us here. Nona: Yes...yes…just the three…I am sorry, Razputin. And to you too, Frazie. For making you so afraid of yourselves because I couldn’t face what happened to my own sister. It wasn’t fair.

Anti-Psychic Techniques

Nona: ‘Woe is me. I can sweep the floors without touching a broom and getting my hands dirty. And I can light the stove without matches. And I can levitate my sister’s nose hair clippers onto a high shelf she can’t reach.’ Yes, there is a stigma against psychics, but living with them’s no cakewalk either. The Galochios have long developed various techniques to make their non-psychic members feel they have some defenses against the telepaths and various kinetics. Mostly related to thought privacy, and that tends to be the biggest source of distrust between those who can read minds and those who can’t. They were particularly useful to me, a single mother of a psychic child, and also to your father, in ensuring that - excuse me - Razputin please close your ears and brain for about twenty seconds or you will no longer be my favorite grandchild. Raz: I’m your favorite!? Nona: Sure. Yeah. Why not? Raz: I knew it! In your face, Frazie! Okay, not listening starting…Now! Nona: (clears throat) As I was saying, Frazie, these techniques were very useful for me and your father in ensuring that our respective children did not learn from us the true nature of Santa Claus until they turned fourteen AS GOD AND NATURE INTENDED! Also they’re great for bluffing them in card games.

Clairvoyance

Nona: Word of warning. If the thing you’re using Clairvoyance on bites the big one, you are in no danger of psychotransformative mutation feedback. It is not a thing that can happen. I am serious. Raz: Are you sure? I don’t want to turn into a lobster boy. Nona: You sound just like your Great Aunt Lucrecia. A fly she was seeing through got swatted and the very next day she insisted she was transforming into one. I can still hear our father Zalto screaming, “Lucrecia! Stop rubbing your wrists together and making those monstrous buzzing sounds! You are a human being! YOU ARE A HUMAN BEING!” Frazie: It wasn’t a prank she was playing on you guys? Nona: I wish. We had watched a village screening of “The Fly” the previous weekend, so that movie might have been where she got the idea from. Whatever the mania’s origin, it was exhausting. Every day after dinner, my father, mother, or I had to take a flyswatter and repeatedly smack Lucrecia with it while shouting, “You are not an insect! You are not an insect!” over and over again. We thought that if we showed her that being hit with a flyswatter wasn’t really hurting her, she’d eventually realize on her own that she wasn’t a fly. Raz: How long did it take for her to go back to normal? Did she ever get back to normal? Was Maligula actually her fly side going out of control? Nona: Answering in reverse – no, yes, and around two weeks. Good thing, too as we were just about to send her off to a sanitarium what with her condition about to pass the threshold of a fly’s lifespan. I’ll never forgot what she said the night of her return, “Ow, ow, ow! Marona, it’s me! I don’t think I’m a fly anymore. Stop hitting me with that flyswatter. Stop hitting me with that flyswatter!” Frazie: Must’ve been the only way to be sure. Nona: Partly. To be honest, I think I must have been having a very bad day and was looking forward to taking it out on something. I had already struck her eighteen times before she regained her senses; what was eight more? Raz: I’m not gonna judge. I would’ve taken that chance. Frazie: On who, exactly? Nona: Incidentally, a few years into our exile, Augustus and I watched the 1986 remake of The Fly as a treat to ourselves. And hubba-hubba. That Jeff Goldblum in the lead role. Raz: The weird dude from Jurassic Park? Nona: This was him in his prime. And what a prime it was. That man can fuse me in a teleporter any day.

“Fortune Telling”

Frazie: I actually met a girl at Whispering Rock who could see the future. Although, she only got visions of bad stuff that happened in it. So I know that “fortune telling” is real. But can the Galochio-I mean-can we really not do that anymore? It’d be a useful power to have. Raz: Yeah…um…I agree with Frazie. Nona: Look, my father Zalto was an overcaffeinated con, but he would never lie to his daughters. Or at least, he wouldn’t lie to them about the family legacy. The gift of future sight has cropped up here and there in our lineage, though the gap of generations between each occurrence keeps increasing. Strangely, my papa was able to sometimes predict outcomes with 100% accuracy, which galled him to no end because he couldn’t do it reliably. My mother Mirtha, a scholar on the run from the Eastern Bloc had her own ideas as to why this was so. Based on her studies, she proposed that the Galochios may not have been doing fortune telling at all. Frazie: Howzat? Nona: She had two major theories. The first was that we were very sensitive to the dreams of others, occasionally stumbling into them without intending to. If you know what your client and those around them are dreaming of doing, then you know what they most desire, what they want to do. And if you know that, you have a good idea of what they’re going to do. Ergo, a prediction. Raz: What was the second theory? Nona: That we were all geniuses. Frazie: I like the sound of that one. Nona: We Galochios (theoretically) absorb oodles of information around us, and through frugal judgement and extraordinary brain processing, we are capable of connecting seemingly disparate thoughts and ideas together in a sublime neural network to craft revolutionary action plans for the romantic, economic, and even spiritual needs of our patrons! Raz: Oh, I know what that is! It’s a psychic technique called Mental Connection. I read about it in-. Nona: I think I’ll stick to believing that I and the rest of our family are geniuses, Mr. Party RazPooper.

To be continued...

----

Commentary:

Art by @digsnowp

I wanted Nona to have a similar role to Ford had in the original Psychonauts 1 both in terms of providing gameplay tips and some color commentary.

Like the chin-stroking, the cane over shoulder pose is meant to sign post that Nona has new dialogue available to avoid a player needlessly bringing up her talk menu.

Maybe it’s a bit excessive in making more parallels between them, but I thought having Lucrecia and Marona coming from a family of down-on-their-luck fortune tellers would be neat.

The 1986 version of the Fly is a very good horror-tragedy film. Would super recommend.

Frazie’s watery grave was a lot drier than she had expected it to be.

Harder and more solid, too. Kind of…metallic?

She tapped the surface she was lying on. It was old, a bit damp, and kind of crusty.

So she hadn’t washed up on a beach.

She could also sense that it wasn’t moving.

So that ruled out being picked up by a boat.

And there was no warm sunshine, crooning trumpets, or sense of universal peace and belonging.

That left only one singular possibility. Emphasis on sin.

It couldn’t be that though, right?

Yes, she had done her share of mischief, doled out some sass, cheated at cards, maybe threw things at her brothers a little too hard, and there were those scant occasions where she had cajoled Mirtala into taking the fall.

And fine, she had added to the tally with those recent screw-ups at Whispering Rock and the whole running away from home thing.

But she’d done more good than harm. She assumed.

Frazie flinched as someone gripped her shoulder and gently shook it.

“Please don’t be the Devil. Please don’t be the Devil. Please don’t be the Devil.” she pleaded as she opened her eyes.

But instead of Old Scratch, it was her grandmother.

“Nona? Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re alive! Where’s Ra-!?”

Nona put a hand on her granddaughter’s mouth and then pointed upwards at a grate far, far above them. There was a light past the bars, but if her grandmother didn’t trust it, Frazie didn’t think she would either. At least, not immediately. The old lady brought a leathery index finger to her wizened lips then used it to tap on her temple.

Frazie carefully nodded, and gingerly tuned up her telepathy as she got to her feet.

“-azie? Can you hear me? Frazie?” Nona’s thoughts rasped.

“y-Yeah.”

“What was that? I cannot really read minds, child. You need to think at me a little louder for me to get the message. Can. You. Hear. Me?”

“Yeah,” Frazie thinks at a higher volume. “I can, Nona. Where’s Raz?”

A new mental voice wearily chimed in. “Over here, sis.” Raz raised an arm in greeting from where he was slouched over.

Nona smiled as she and Frazie waved back at him. “Give him a moment to recover, dear. He’s a bit tired from channeling some of his mental energy into you so you’d wake up faster.”

“Raz knows how to Channel?” She’d only recently learned how to do it herself, and barely at that.

“You’re welcome,” her little brother preemptively replied as he stood back up.

Nona grinned. “My precious Gus-Gus taught him how, and Razputin took to it with such speed. And when I got a little boo-boo, they used that power to make me heal quicker. Ohhh, they made for such a cute team.”

Frazie shoved down a frown before it could show. Yes, her father had never given her a single lesson in using her powers much less taught her a skill, but that wasn’t Raz’s fault. Though if he ever tries to lord that over her, all bets are off.

“I’m just glad you two are okay.” She makes to wipe a bit of sweat off her brow only to for the back of her palm to make contact with metal. “Hey, what’s this thing on my head?” she asked as she removed it to give the object a better look.

It was a Psychoisolation Helmet with faded pink and seafoam green paint. A large jagged crack ran from its crown to its rim.

Weird. Though it explained why her two side ponytails had been bunched up by her ears.

Well, with that alloyed hat gone, she felt much better.

Lighter.

Less encumbered.

Weightless, even.

My, what a pretty orange glow that is.

“FRAZIE!”

She woke up to her grandmother’s mental shriek with the helmet back on her head courtesy of her grandmother’s arms, and an orange telekinetic hand around her torso that must have belonged to Raz.

Once he saw that she was steady again, her kid brother called off his psychic grip. “Yeah, uh, don’t take that off.”

Nona clicked her tongue as she let go of the helmet. “You’re lucky I found it floating nearby after you got us here.”

Frazie blinked. “I got us here?”

“Probably.” Nona shrugged. “One minute, I’m playing with bottle caps, then the plane crashes, and I wake up next to my little slumbering Razputin and you who is also sleeping; the only granddaughter I know with hydrokinesis passable enough to get us to this place.”

“This place…” Frazie echoed as she took stock of where they were.

It was rather horrible.

The three of them were standing on a wide rusty disk, large enough for the trio to comfortably lie down on, but it wasn’t exactly roomy.

Surrounding the disk was a lot of water, of which the platform was only a couple of inches above.

The sifting, lapping liquids stretched dozens of feet in all directions until they met the ends of a vast circular chamber.

The curved faces of the faraway walls were broken by thick glass portholes. Most of them were shuttered and darkened, but a few had their windows lit by external bulbs. Through these illuminated screens, Frazie could make out the shapes of fish slowly passing in the murk outside.

So they were in a half-flooded dungeon that was also underwater.

Terrific.

A heavy band of sealed metal ran along the wall atop the portholes. Its surface was smooth and uninterrupted save for one chunk of it where the casing had been torn away. This left a colorful cluster of cables worryingly exposed; the wires faintly twitched with stray sparks.

Overhead, the ceiling arched upward towards the grate in a smooth, unbroken dome. Supposing they could somehow make it to the wall, its inward curve was too sharp to climb. It was like they were stuck in a decaying, iron hourglass. And they were stuck in the bottom bulb.

Shouting up for help was tempting. There was light up there. Someone could be standing close to it – if not now, perhaps later. But more than her grandmother’s earlier caution at making too much noise, there was something about the chamber they were in that made Frazie reluctant to raise her voice.

The oppressive sloshing of the inner sea and crumbling hardness beneath her feet were to be expected. The water entrapping them was usurpingly dark with how far the grate and portholes were from it. But the air…

“What’s that smell? Is that-?” she sniffed. “Is that…basil?”

“I thought it smelled more like rambutans.” Raz’s thoughts stated.

“Myself?” her Nona’s wonderings croaked. “It reminds me of chewing gum. It’s making me crave some, too.”

Frazie scratched at her temple. “I guess it sort of resembles tho-.” And grit her teeth when her fingers brushed her helmet up a bit too far, allowing another squall of disorientation to blow in. “OW! What IS that?!” she almost screamed. “It’s like my skull keeps collapsing into itself whenever this helmet comes off!”

Her Nona stroked her chin. “I think I might have an answer to that. And maybe an idea of where we might be. Frazie, can you still use your telekinesis?”

“How can I?” she rapped her knuckles on the metal protecting her head “I’m wearing a Psychoisolation helmet.”

“But you’re speaking to me telepathically right now.” Nona pointed out.

“Whuh. Ah. I am.” Frazie ran a finger along the curve of the helmet until she touched the gash she had seen on it earlier. “Maybe it’s because this thing’s cracked. Would explain why I still feel real lousy with it on.”

“Give it a whirl then.” Nona twirled one of her fingers. “See what happens.”

“…’kay.” And Frazie did.

Raz gripped at the straps around his helmet. “Hey. Hey!” he silently yelled. “Watch the merchandise!”

“Whoopsie.” Frazie released her distant tug on his goggles. “Say, how come you’re not stumbling around and fainting everywhere?”

Raz readjusted his spectacles. “Boys don’t faint.”

Nona got between the two siblings to give her grandson’s helmeted noggin a loving yet weighted and vaguely disciplinary stroke. “Ohoho. Such a kidder this one. And apparently an inheritor of his papa’s equally kissable and thick head.”

That made some sense to Frazie. Save for a mild migraine, her dad and Raz had been the only members of the family who were doing just fine before the jet crashed.

Their grandmother patted Raz once more before shuffling away. “Now that you can both use telekinesis, please be sure to yank me back before our familial curse smites me.”

Before Frazie or Raz could protest, Nona had already reached the edge of the disk. She eyed the onyx waves impassively. Then she bent over and swiped a handful of water from it.

A Hand of Galochio punched out of the water’s surface and slammed its palm where Nona would have been if Frazie and Raz hadn’t telekinetically pulled her back towards. The curse gouged long, thin lines in the steel as it returned to the dark.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Frazie had to bite her lip not to scream that.

“Nona, why?” Raz almost wept as he and Frazie helped Nona get upright.

The old Aquato simply stood. She brought the water cupped in her right hand up to her lips and stuck her tongue in it. “Hmmm. Brine and rust. Of course,” she pondered as she gave it another taste. “Ahhh. There you are. Cobalt and…” she lapped more of it into her mouth, thoughtfully sloshed it in her cheeks, and then swallowed it. “…the telltale sprinklings of cashews. I thought as much,” she tossed the rest of the water over her shoulder before looking at her grandchildren. “Frazie, Razputin, I have very bad news. This water, and perhaps even the very sea outside this room, is loaded with Psilirium particulates.”

“Psilirium.” Raz squinted. “Where have I heard that word before…?”

Frazie tried racking her exhausted brain herself. “Are you sure don’t mean Psitanium?”

Nona made a disappointed tsk. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Totally different mineral. Psitanium makes psychics more psychic and makes non-psychics cuckoo. Psilirium on the other hand, severely debilitates psychics – it can even cause them to see things that aren’t there - and makes non-psychics-.”

“Smarter?” Raz volunteered.

“Ahahahaha. No.” Nona replied. “It also makes them cuckoo but in a different way. By making them, how to describe it? Super-duper-ultra focused. Locks them into the last powerful emotion they had before exposure to the point of mania. So the angry get furious, the curious become obsessed, and so forth. They can be stuck like that for hours or even days depending on how much they were hit with…or how long their bodies can hold out.”

“Why do you know that?” Frazie asked.

Nona sighed wistfully. “The Galochios had a little Psilirium tchotchke back in the old country; a knickknack brought home by a sailor ancestor.” She didn’t notice her grandchildren tense at hearing their Nona refer to herself by her maiden name for the first time in their lives. “Our non-psychic family members would bring it out when they needed a little study aide for big exams or had to stay awake during tax season. Kept the GPAs high – you’re looking at the Magna Crumb Laudable of Grulovia’s most esteemed university right now - and our books clean albeit at the cost of making sure the studiers and filers ate, drank, and went to the bathroom so they wouldn’t die or dishonor themselves. We were mostly good at that.” A smile trembled up her lips then disappeared. “I’ll draw you two a picture of it later. I no longer have it. It was lost in the Deluge, you know.” At the sight of her oldest granddaughter averting her gaze and awkwardly scratching at her elbow, Nona forced the smile back on. “Ambush hug.” Though that she’s thinking these words ruined the surprise, Frazie nonetheless appreciated the quick embrace she received.

Raz hid a little smirk behind a gloved hand at how Frazie was trying not to enjoy the hug too much. “Is the Psilirium why you’re a little more…?”

“Put together?” his grandmother finished for him. “I suppose. So let’s make use of my wits while I still have them, yes?” she chided as she released Frazie. My how she’d grown. “Next up, I’d like for you two to use Clairvoyance on some fish to take a looksie outside. Maybe froooooooom that window,” she pointed to one of the well-lit portholes and the sea life swimming outside of it.

“Alright. I’ll scout ahead.” Frazie rolled her shoulders back. The fish were a little far, but she’d been improving her max distance with this particular psychic ability for a while. “See you in a few.”

“Frazie,” her Nona said. “I said that the TWO of you should-.”

But Frazie had already formed a mental connection with the first fish she was able to spot. Her consciousness rode that invisible line all the way to her target’s eyes.

She was relieved that the animal wasn’t immediately torn apart by a Hand of Galochio. It looked like simply inhabiting the headspace of something underwater didn’t trigger the curse. With that no longer a concern, she could ride this creature’s sight around the area in search of clues to where they were, how they should proceed, and perhaps what that strangely familiar orange glow creeping into the corners of her vision was.

“GAH!” Frazie recoiled as her consciousness tumbled back into her head. “For crying out loud. What went wrong this time!?” she wordlessly fumed.

Not to be outdone, Nona strangled the air with both of her bandaged hands and glared up at her. “It is as you said Frazie. Your powers are greatly diminished due to the Psilirium. That is why you must bring Raz with you into the fish brains. Right now, you are too weak and he is too inexperienced-.”

“Inexperienced is a bit harsh.” Raz tried to protest.

“-but together, you will be stronger.” Nona finished.

“I-ugh-.” Frazie turned her thoughts to her brother. “Do you even know how to use Clairvoyance?”

Raz fiddled with a button on his jacket before shaking his head. “No.”

“So teach him, Frazie.” The old lady challenged. “You are very smart, and he is a fast learner. You can do this. You need to do this.”

Frazie took a deep breath of that strangely sweet air around them and made her way to Raz. He was still a little sullen. He could be such a baby sometimes.

After all, she was always going to teach him whatever she would have learned at Whispering Rock. She’d be a bit coy, perhaps make him earn it a tad by having her do a couple of her chores or fork over some cash to “jog her memory”, but she would have shared every last bit of what she knew by the caravan’s campfire or at a nearby field on a starry evening or a clear day.

Frazie being shipped off to Motherlobe just made that dream encounter even bigger with each advanced course and drill she took. The Aquato wagons would roll into the facility’s parking lot to pick her up (LEGALLY), she’d hand over a bunch of souvenirs, and then show them around the place. Afterwards, she and Raz would chat at the practice range or perhaps Lili’s private garden. She’d tell him the full story of her adventures, including the finer details she had omitted from her letters in order to tease him. Ideally, she’d tutor him in a specific psychic skill during the parts in her tale when she had learned them. It was an idea Vernon Tripe had suggested to her when she had seen the young boy last: interactive fiction – he said it would be all the rage soon.

That dream was impossible now. There would be no tours or Honey Pepper Boar Bacon sandwiches. No strolls down memory lane on soft grass. They’d burned that bridge when they had raised hell at Psychonaut HQ and stolen the Albatross. They couldn’t even see the sky where they were.

But there were still lessons to be taught. She’d just have to skip about, say, twenty chapters in her narrative to get to what Raz needed to know. Frazie just had to add a cup of sugar first.

“Raz, did I ever tell you how old my Clairvoyance teacher was?”

“You wrote about her. Chloe, right?” Raz recalled. “The camper who thought she was an alien? How old was she?”

“She was 7.”

Raz’s cheeks puffed out, his lips barely containing the laughter his thoughts were roaring with. “Hahahaha! You got Clairvoyance lessons from a kid half your age!? How young was your Shield instructor? Still in preschool?!”

Frazie tucked her left hand behind her back so she wouldn’t be tempted to bop Raz with the fist it was curling into. “Chloe’s smart as a whip. And for your information, I learned how to make psychic shields on my own.” Frazie preened. “So, are you ready to learn Clairvoyance? Or are you going to be shown up by a girl who’s three years younger than you?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Raz dismissed, performing a couple of light stretches to vent out his renewed confidence. “Let’s do it.”

“Good. So you can astral – I mean - Channel, yes?”

“Yup.”

“Then you can use Clairvoyance. It’s sort of the same thing, kind of. And you can do both at the same time. Except instead of just pushing psychic energy into someone – or something’s - mind, you try to push YOURSELF into their eyes first.”

“Right. Of course.” Raz nodded. “But, um, how?”

“You’ll have to guide your focus beyond their brain. Scan their heads until you find a route into their optic nerves.” Frazie pointed at her eyes. “That sounds kinda daunting, but it’ll happen faster than you think, and it’ll get easier the more you do it.”

“Cool. I’ll try it on you, then.”

“That is not going to happen, Pooter. My head’s aching enough as it is. I don’t need you rattling around in it.” She glared, hands on the hips of her polkadot scrubs. “And you can forget about using Nona as a guinea pig.”

“I wasn’t gonna.” Raz protests. “But do you really want me to just jump straight into a fish’s brain for my first go at Clairvoyance?”

“Or an eel. An octopus could work, too.”

“Fine.” Raz’s brow furrowed as he squinted at the lit porthole Frazie had tried to use a moment before. “Alright, I see one. But if I grow gills or a tail because of this, it’ll be your faul-!” his eyes closed, his body slackened, and his expression calmed.

“Whoa, he really is a fast learner.” Frazie thought.

“Told you.” Nonna reminded.

“Fair enough. I’m going to try and catch up with him. See if we can maybe find the rest of the family, too. Will you be alright here by yourself?”

“I’ll need to be. Someone has to stay behind and make sure your bodies don’t topple into the water while you explore.” She gestured towards Raz before continuing. “Just do me two favors.  They’re very important for figuring out where we are. First, try to look down. See what may be beneath. And keep your eyes peeled for anything strange or out of place in the deep blue sea.”

“Like the jet we flew in on?”

Her Nona gave her a knowing smile so brazen that she was almost smirking at her. “Yes, Frazie. Like the jet.”

Frazie decided she must have been imagining it, and used Clairvoyance on the lit porthole. Perhaps she’d find the one Raz went into nearby.

For the first time that day, Frazie was lucky. She wound up in the very same fish Raz was.

“TREMBLE, CREATURES OF THE DEEP! FOR YOU ARE IN PRESENCE OF POSEIDON REBORN!”

Good or bad luck, who could say?

To be continued…

----

Commentary:

Art by @digsnowp.

The Aquatos are alive! Three of them, anyway!

Using telepathy to communicate is both practical in story and would be very cost-effective in a VR game, as it would save money on having to animate Raz, Frazie, and Nona’s mouths much.

Ditto for the Psilirium helmet. If Frazie is afflicted in such a way that she can’t do lots of flashy psychic stuff, then the devs wouldn’t have to render any!

Channeling in this story is a lesser version of the PSI Energy Transfer Augustus used in the first Psychonauts game and Depths of Denouement to empower Raz and Frazie respectively. At its base usage, it bequeaths mental energy from the channeler to someone else to help them mentally and to a lesser extent physically recover (it does not heal wounds so much as accelerates the body's natural ability to heal). I'd like to think that Augustus has been using it whenever Donatella, Nona, or any of his kids became unwell so they could get better sooner; may have come at the cost of his hairline, but he'd probably do it all over again if he had to. Since he's just starting out with it, Raz can't turn anyone into an energy giant yet.

Frazie’s Clairvoyance lesson is taken almost word-for-word from Chloe’s tutorial of it back in the original Later, Traitor fic at Chapter 20. It’s a short but very sweet moment; one of my favorites form that story.

Similar to Ford (who doesn’t mentor Frazie in Later, Traitor as much as he does Raz in the canon first game), Nona serves as a hint giver of sorts in this scenario. Though to guard against the possibility of players needlessly checking in on her, she will enact this chin-stroking pose whenever she has new information to share to progress the story.